


You're Enough

by Seraph_Novak



Series: Destiel One-Shots [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF Castiel, Best Friends, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Dean, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, POV Castiel, Self-Hatred, Teenagers, Then a whole lot of fluff at the end, Unrequited Love, mostly angst, or so he thinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraph_Novak/pseuds/Seraph_Novak
Summary: "It's the first date, Cas. Give it time.""No," He shakes his head, desperate to make Dean understand, "I'll never feel that way about Bartholomew.""How d'you know that?""Because," He falters for a moment, "Because I'm already in love with someone else."





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be super short and super fluffy... But this is me, so of course it turned into a long-winded angst fest! Well, I hope you still enjoy it. Please leave kudos and comments if you can! It's very much appreciate, thank you ♥

Castiel tries to ignore the hollow thumping of his heart as he stands in the Winchesters' bathroom, attempting to fix his tie to no avail. His reflection looks sallow and sickly; his skin is unusually pale, and his eyes are wide and petrified as they stare back at him from beyond the glass. He's never been a nervous person by nature, but right now, he's half-tempted to throw his stupid tie to the ground and make a runner.

Downstairs, he can hear the muffled voices of Mary and John. They sound like they're bickering over something again, but their tones are light and teasing. Castiel has always envied the relationship they share; it's so easy and familiar, like being married to your best friend.

He sighs at that thought, shaking his head a little as he loosens the godawful knot he somehow managed to create around his neck. Thinking about things like that is pointless; he needs to stop pining over someone completely unobtainable. It's just not healthy. His affections will never truly be returned, and that's just something he's going to have to deal with.

"Holy shit."

Castiel freezes as Dean peers around the bathroom door, signature smirk tugging at his lips. He has half a mind to cover himself up; he knows he looks ridiculous in his dark blue suit and newly-polished shoes, like he's trying too hard to impress a particular someone.

"Not a word," He grumbles.

Dean steps into the room, closing the door behind him softly. Castiel braces himself for the inevitable teasing; it's too good an opportunity to pass up, after all. But surprisingly, Dean doesn't say a word as he steps in front of the mirror and takes Castiel's tie, huffing a small laugh as he unravels the stubborn knot and starts afresh.

"Will you ever learn to fix a tie, man?" He says after a while, the hint of a smile in his voice.

Castiel shrugs, "Not as long as I have you, no."

Dean tenses a little, and Castiel curses himself for being too obvious again. Keeping up this charade is quickly becoming impossible; one day, Dean will finally know the truth, and then it will be over for good.

"Hey, who knows? Maybe good ol' Barth will teach ya sometime."

"Maybe," Castiel says quietly, his heart sinking in his chest; of course Bartholomew will know how to fix a tie - his family is rather prestigious - but that doesn't mean he won't miss the warmth of Dean's fingers dancing along his skin, brushing the hollow of his throat…

"Hey, c'mon," Dean snaps him out of his thoughts, "He's gonna love you, Cas. Don't worry about it."

"And how could you possibly know that, Dean?"

"Well, I mean… Just look at ya!" Dean smiles shyly as he pulls the tie straight, "He'd be stupid not to, right?"

Castiel drops his eyes to the floor, determined not to meet Dean's gaze in case he's never able to look away again. It's just too much when Dean says things like that, igniting yet another spark of false hope deep down inside of him. He can't bear further disappointment. It's killing him having to pretend that everything is okay, that going on this date with Bartholomew is what he actually wants. He'd give anything to go back eight years, when they were both dragging sticks through the forest without a care in the world. Life was easier when loving Dean didn't hurt like a dagger to his chest.

"What if this a bad idea?" He says, more to himself than anything, "I'm not good enough for someone like Bartholomew… He's rich and handsome and -"

"So are you," Dean pulls at his tie rather forcefully, "And if this guy can't see how lucky he is… well, then screw him!"

Castiel smiles, leaning into Dean's touch ever so slightly as he rearranges the collar of his shirt. He wonders if other friends are like this - so soft and gentle, always standing a step too close. Dean nods his approval as he smoothes the tie against his chest, winking down at Castiel with a lopsided grin. Castiel hates the way he instantly melts at that face; when did he become so pathetic?

"Dean," He croaks, leaning half an inch closer without intending to, "I don't know if I can do this."

"Of course you can."

"But what if I don't want to?"

Dean frowns, "What d'you mean? I thought you liked Bartholomew?"

"I _do_ ," He insists, but even to him it sounds insincere, "I just… I don't think he's right for me."

"In what way?"

Castiel flinches at Dean's frustrated tone, "I don't know, Dean! I look at him and I don't… I don't feel the way you're supposed to feel about someone you care deeply about."

"It's the first date, Cas. Give it time."

"No," He shakes his head, desperate to make Dean understand, "I'll never feel that way about Bartholomew."

"How d'you know that?"

"Because," He falters for a moment, "Because I'm already in love with someone else."

Dean takes a step back, something akin to hurt flashing in his eyes, "What the hell d'you mean, you're in love with someone else?"

Castiel swallows thickly. Why did he say that? Why couldn't he just pretend a little while longer? Now his heart is on his sleeve, completely exposed for Dean to poke and prod at. There's no way he won't figure it out eventually; he'll realize how needy and pitiful he really is, and then Castiel will lose the one good thing he has in his life - the most important person he's ever had the privilege of knowing.

"It doesn't matter," He says hastily, "Forget I said anything."

Dean scoffs, "How am I supposed to just _forget_ that, Cas? You just told me you're _in love_ with someone, for Christ's sake!"

"Please, Dean. Just let it be."

"No way! I'm not letting you go on this goddamn date unless you explain what the hell you're talkin' about."

"It's none of your business," He growls, "Just - just drop it, will you?"

Dean grabs his arm as he turns to leave, his anger dissolved to some kind of desperate curiosity, "C'mon, Cas… I thought we told each other everything."

Castiel relaxes slightly, allowing Dean to lift his chin until their eyes meet again. There's a sadness to Dean's expression; his cheeks are flushed and his lips are parted. He looks like something out of a movie - tragically beautiful as he stares back at Castiel, willing him to tell the truth.

"I can't," Castiel all but whimpers, "It would ruin everything…"

Dean shakes his head, "Cas, look at me, man. You're startin' to freak me out."

"I'm sorry, Dean. You don't deserve this."

"Shut up, you idiot," Dean cups his face with large, gentle hands, "Don't write me off like that, Cas. Don't push me away."

Castiel's jaw begins to tremble, the unfamiliar sting of tears pricking the backs of his eyes. He never cries; it's just not something he does. He hates showing how weak he really is, especially to Dean.

"I'm sorry," He says again, his voice breaking on every syllable, "I'm a bad friend. I'm an awful -"

"Don't say that," Dean runs the pad of his thumb along Castiel's cheek, catching a stray tear as it rolls down his face, "Why would you say that?"

Castiel drops his head to Dean's chest, "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry…"

"What? You didn't mean to what?"

"I didn't mean to fall in love," He says miserably, daring to lift his head to meet Dean's unwavering gaze, "I didn't mean to fall in love with _you_ …"

There's an awful stretch of silence that follows, near-suffocating as Dean stares back dumbly, his brow creased with confusion. Castiel holds his breath in waiting; he expects Dean to shove him off, to storm out the room and never speak to him again. But all he does is stand there, his hands still cradling Castiel's face with careful tenderness. Castiel can usually tell exactly what the other boy is thinking, but right now, he doesn't have a clue. It's slowly killing him. He's never felt so far away from his best friend before.

"Say something," He whispers, then with more heat, "Say something, for God's sake!"

Dean closes his eyes, lets his hands fall back to his sides. There's pain etched across his face as he takes a step back, as if Castiel might jump on him at any moment.

"You don't love me," He says coldly.

Before Castiel can respond, there's a knock on the door downstairs, and his whole body freezes up. The expensive-looking car parked outside the Winchester's front door must belong to Bartholomew; no other family in town would be able to afford such a thing. He side-glances Dean, who's staring pointedly at the ground, and waits for the sound of Mary opening the door.

"Oh, hello," She greets Bartholomew sweetly before calling up the stairs "Castiel! Your date's here!"

Dean visibly winces at the word 'date'. It pains Castiel to see him this way; he didn't expect him to react like this, all quiet and distant. He prepared himself for a shouting match, at least.

"Well, you better go," Dean says flatly, still refusing to meet Castiel's eyes, "You don't wanna make him wait."

"But, Dean -"

"You're gonna be fine, Cas. Don't worry about it."

Castiel shakes his head desperately, "Does what I said mean _anything_ to you?"

Dean licks his lips; he always does that when he's uncomfortable. A shiver runs down Castiel's spine when Dean finally lifts his head and looks at him again, the usual glimmer in his eyes lost to a dull, emotionless stare.

"No," He says tightly, "It doesn't." 

Castiel watches him leave the room with an empty feeling in his chest. He's known Dean all his life; sure, he can be smug and cocky and stubborn as hell, but Castiel has never known him to be cruel before. There must be something he's not telling him.  

"Dean, wait!"

He rushes down the stairs in a panic, only to walk into the bright light of a camera flash. His vision goes blurry for a second, and then his eyes clap on the small gathering of people waiting for him by the door. Practically the whole family is there to see him off; Mary and John are fighting over the camera discreetly, Sam is rolling his eyes in the corner, and Bartholomew is standing in the doorway with a bunch of flowers in his hands.

"Oh," Is all he manages to say, "Hello, Bartholomew."

"Good evening, Castiel," He bows his head slightly, handing over the flowers with an arrogant smile, "You look… wonderful."

Castiel squirms at the insincerity of the compliment, suddenly conscious of the hand-me-down suit hanging loosely from his slender frame; it was Gadreel's many years ago, and he insisted Castiel borrow it for his date. He feels stupid for thinking Bartholomew wouldn't notice. 

"Well, shall we go?"

"Of course," He forces a smile, passing the flowers over to Mary as they step through the door.

"You look after him, ya here me?" John says gruffly.

Bartholomew chuckles, "Oh, I will, sir. Don't you worry about that…"

The air is cold as they walk over to Bartholomew's car, and Castiel suddenly longs for the warmth of his trenchcoat. He considers going back inside to fetch it (Dean is keeping it safe in his room until he comes back), but he thinks better of it. Dean clearly needs time to cool down; as much as it pains him to leave things like this, the last thing he wants to do is push Dean even further away. Maybe him going on this date is the best thing for both of them right now, regardless of how wrong it feels.  

"So, what's with the _Winchesters_ anyway?" Bartholomew asks as he holds the door open for him.

Castiel frowns, "What do you mean?"

"Well… They are quite peculiar, don't you think? I little overbearing."

"They're good people," He says, jaw tight, "In fact, they're like a family to me."

Bartholomew scoffs, "Oh, _please_. You're above them, Castiel."

"I'm not above anyone, thank you very much."

"Okay, okay," Bartholomew raises his hands in mock surrender, "Just get in the car, baby. We'll talk about it more on the way there."

Castiel steps away from the car, wrapping his arms around his trembling body. There's no way in hell's he's going on this date still. He'd rather sit at home with a tub of Ben & Jerry's than spend the entire evening with such a pompous, arrogant assbutt.

"Get in the car," Bartholomew says again, his tone verging on impatient.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," He growls.

"What? Because I insulted the Winchesters? Oh, come on, Castiel! Don't be such a drama queen."

Castiel clenches his fists against the anger slowly rising inside of him, "Don't talk about them like again, or I swear to God -"

"Oh, what are you going to do, Castiel?" Bartholomew sneers, "I mean, _look_ at you…"

"If I'm such a disappointment, then why did you even ask me on a date?"

Bartholomew shrugs, "Boredom, mostly. Plus, you're the only decent-looking guy in town who'll quite happily take it up the ass…"

Castiel doesn't even think before he lunges forward, his fist colliding with Bartholomew's face in one, swift motion. The sickening crunch that follows is strangely satisfying, and the pain throbbing through his knuckles makes him feel alive.

"I've changed my mind," He says as Bartholomew falls back against his car, "I _am_ above some people… namely conceited asses like you."

Before he can turn to leave, Bartholomew makes a sound like a dying animal, clutching his nose gently as he leans against the roof of his car for support. His eyes are full of pure distain as he looks back at Castiel; he wonders if his own glare is half as hateful.

"Please tell me this isn't about Dean Winchester?" He spits.

Castiel swallows thickly, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on… Everyone knows, Castiel! You're basically in love with him," Bartholomew manages to smirk around the blood dripping down his face, "What's it like? Wanting to fuck an inbred delinquent like that?"

Castiel can feel his brain swelling with rage, slowing his thoughts down to a low buzz. All he wants to do is beat Bartholomew to a bloody pulp, but that just would be pointless.

"It must really suck," Bartholomew continues ruthlessly, "Being in love with the local womaniser. It's always the straight ones that get to you, isn't it?"

Instead of throwing another punch, Castiel fixes Bartholomew with the coldest, most unfeeling stare he can muster; the look of genuine fear on Bartholomew's face when he crowds him up against the car is more than worth it.  

"I do love him," He says bluntly, his shoulders slumping with the relief of his confession, "But it doesn't 'suck' by any means. In fact, it's the best feeling in the world."

Bartholomew swallows thickly, but doesn't look away.

"And it doesn't matter if he feels the same away or not," He proceeds, "If ten years down the line, Dean asks me to the be the best man at his wedding, or the godfather to his child… I will be there for him. I will always be there for him, because my feelings will never change. He's twice the man you could ever hope to be, Bartholomew, and loving him isn't a burden. It's a privilege."

He lets the weight of his words settle in the air, allows the night to swallow them whole until they're nothing more than a fuzzy memory. It saddens him that only Bartholomew got to hear his declaration, that only he will ever know how much Dean truly means to him, but maybe it's for the best.

"It's just not worth it," He snarls at Castiel, "You're too far gone… Doesn't make for good sex."

Castiel scoffs, "I would never sleep with you, Bartholomew."

"Well, that's all up to debate," Bartholomew rolls his eyes, then grins unpleasantly at something over Castiel's shoulder, "It looks like you have some explaining to do."

Castiel turns around frantically, heart racing in his chest. Standing in the doorway - not five yards away from them - is the entire Winchester family, including Dean. They're watching him with open mouths and wide eyes; they must have heard everything. The colour drains from his face immediately.

"Good luck," Bartholomew snickers before jumping into his car and driving away.

Castiel looks at the Winchesters, then down at his trembling hands, and then back at them again. He really has no choice but to go inside; he left his coat and his schoolbag in Dean's room, after all. And anyway, it's not like he can avoid them forever.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," He says quietly once he's reached the door.

Mary rolls her eyes fondly, "Oh, Castiel… Why the hell are you sorry?"

He shrugs, "The things he said. They were cruel."

"But you stuck up for us," John says with a proud smile, "You held your own, son. Well done."

Sam nods his head enthusiastically, toothy grin lighting his face, "That was so badass, the way you hit him! I didn't know you could fight like that, Cas!"

"Well, I prefer not to," He shuffles his feet awkwardly, "I suppose I just saw red."

"Perks of loving someone so fiercely," Mary says with a knowing smile, "All you want to do is protect them."

Castiel finally looks over at Dean. He's staring at him again, only his eyes aren't so cold this time; he looks caught between guilty, confused, and something else he can't quite decipher. His lips are parted in awe as he takes a step closer, then stops himself again. Castiel can see he's struggling.

He turns to face the rest of them, "Could you maybe give us a minute?"

"Of course," Mary smiles, punching John lightly on the arm to snap him out of his curious daze, "C'mon, boys. Let's give them some space."

When the door closes behind them, Castiel looks back at Dean. They both open their mouths to speak, then snap them shut in unison. Dean scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. He should probably let him go first, but Castiel can't stand the silence any longer.

"I didn't mean for your family to find out," He says, "I won't tell anyone else. I promise."

Dean huffs a watery laugh and stares down at his feet, "I don't really give a shit about that, Cas."

"But you -"

"I didn't think you meant it," Dean cuts in almost desperately, "I just… I thought you were only saying it cos you were scared, ya know?"

Castiel frowns, "You thought I was lying to you?"

"Can you blame me?"

"Why is it so hard to believe?" He asks, but it isn't a rhetorical question; he genuinely wants to know, "Why do you think I'm incapable of loving you?"

Dean shrugs helplessly, frustration evident in the way he throws his hands in the air, "Oh, I dunno, Cas! Maybe cos I'm a piece of shit? And you - Well… you're _you_ , for Christ's sake."

"And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"You heard what Bartholomew said," Dean clenches his jaw, "You're above people like me, Cas."

"That's nonsense!"

"But is it?!"

"Of course it is!" He growls; he can't believe Dean is being this stupid, "How the hell could you think me so shallow? I thought you knew me better than that."

Dean shakes his head and looks across the street, vindictive smile ghosting his lips, "No. I'm sorry, but no! I doesn't make any goddamn sense."

"You're being ridiculous," Castiel steps closer, until their chests are practically touching, "If you stopped feeling sorry for yourself for one damn minute, you might realize that there are people who actually care about you, Dean! _Me_ included!"

And with that, Dean seems to crumple. Castiel only just manages to catch him before he falls against his chest, large hands clinging fiercely to the sleeves of his suit. Dean's breath is hot and heavy against his neck, filling the quiet of the night with half-broken whimpers. He's not quite crying, but he may as well be. Castiel can only hold him tightly; he's never seen his friend so upset before. It makes him want to take his hand, kiss his forehead, and tell him everything is going to be okay…

"Shh," He runs his fingers through Dean's hair soothingly, "It's alright, Dean. I'm here."

"You're an idiot," Dean mumbles against his shoulder.

"I'm aware."

"I mean, why would you wanna fall in love with _me_?"

Castiel huffs a laugh, "I didn't have much of a choice, actually."

When Dean lifts his head again, his eyes are dry, but his body is still shaking. Castiel makes sure to commit this moment to memory; he's never seen him more beautiful, never wanted to touch him so badly… It's surreal, how much he loves this boy. It even scares him sometimes.  

Dean cradles his face - like he did in the bathroom - and shakes his head a little, the hint of a smile touching his lips, "Sonofabitch…"

And then he's smashing their mouths together, his hand curling around the back of Castiel's neck to reel him in closer. They stumble back a few steps, until Castiel's back is pressed up against the door. They're desperate, hungry; they've waited far too long for this to simply shy away.

Dean unravels Castiel's tie with one skillful tug, grinning against his lips as it falls to the ground.

"It's a stupid tie," He says breathlessly.

Castiel chuckles as he kicks it across the yard, "I fully concur."

"I'm sorry, Cas… I'm so fuckin' sorry," Dean mumbles between kisses, "God, I love you…"

His breath hitches, "You do?"

"Of course I do, you idiot. I wouldn't cry like a bitch over just _anyone_ , ya know?"

Castiel pushes him away slightly, sighing as Dean tries to kiss along his neck; he needs to know that Dean believes him, that he doesn't think he's not good enough. He couldn't care less about money or reputation. As long as he has Dean, nothing else really matters.

"Dean," He gasps at the squeeze of fingers on his hips, "Dean, please listen to me."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong… I just wish you'd see yourself the way I see you," He runs his finger along Dean's face, letting it rest on his bottom lip, "You may not be perfect… But at the same time, you are. Does that make any sense?"

Dean chuckles, "No, not really, Cas."

"Well, you know what I'm trying to say, you assbutt!"

"Man, you're adorable," Dean smirks before dipping down for another kiss, "And, yeah… I get ya."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I guess," He shrugs shyly, rubbing his hands up and down Castiel's shivering arms, "I'm not gonna lie and tell you everything's suddenly okay… I still feel crap about myself. Probably will for a long time. But it's easier with you, Cas. I mean, the way you look at me sometimes? Man… It makes me think that maybe I am something special."

"You _are_ special," Castiel says softly, "And I'm determined to prove it to you."

Dean grins, "Well, you've got plenty of time to prove it now that we're..." He trails off, blushing slightly as he drops his eyes to the ground.

Castiel huffs at Dean's uncertainty; even after everything he's said, he still doesn't believe he's worthy of this. He wishes he could change that in one look, one kiss… but he knows it's not that simple. He's willing to spend the rest of his life showing Dean how much he means to him, no matter how many 'chick-flick moments' it takes.

He leans up to kiss the top of Dean's forehead, coaxing a hesitant smile from the other boy. It's strange how the small upturn of lips can make his heart flutter in his chest.

"You're insufferable, Dean Winchester," He mutters, "You sing off key, you curse too much, you eat with your mouth open, you leave your socks on the floor…"

"Jeez, okay! No need to insult me."

"But _despite_ all of this," He continues, undeterred by Dean's insecurities, "I love you. And, though this may come as a shock to you… I would be _honoured_ to be your boyfriend."

Dean looks up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, "Wait, you - Is that what you really want?"

"Of course," He squeezes his hand, "I believe it's customary for people who love each other to date, after all."

"What? And you wouldn't be, ya know… Like, ashamed or anything?"

"Why the hell would I be ashamed of you?"

Dean shrugs, "Well, I _am_ an inbred delinquent, remember?"

Castiel rolls his eyes and grabs a fistful of Dean's leather jacket, pulling him in for another kiss. It's softer than their first one, with less tongue and teeth and hands flying everywhere. He's more than grateful for the extra body heat draped over him as Dean gently pushes him up against the door, trailing his hands lightly down Castiel's body to rest on his hips.

"We're officially boyfriends," Castiel whispers against the shell of Dean's ear, "I've just decided."

Dean huffs a laugh, "That's fine by me."

So later on, after Dean has washed Bartholomew's blood from Castiel's clothes, and they're lying on the couch together, they tell the rest of the Winchester family what they probably already know.

And funnily enough, it's fine by them, too.


End file.
